ently, "this whole matter is dropped."

Philo Gubb took out all the money he had received and counted it,
sitting cross-legged on the ladder.

"I guess," he said thoughtfully, "you had better run up to the jail
and tell Snooksy I want to see him right away, Miss Kilfillan. Maybe
he can stretch the jail that much again. Tell him I'm just going to
get down from this ladder and start to work, and I want to ask his
advice."

"What do you want to ask him?" inquired Attorney Mullen, as Nan
hurried away.

"I want to ask him about those seven bottles of beer and that
beer-opener," said Philo Gubb.

"Mr. Gubb," said the City Attorney, "I can tell you about those
bottles of beer. If those bottles of beer came from my house Aunt
Martha Turner goes to the penitentiary. If she does not go to the
penitentiary, there are no bottles of beer and there is no
beer-opener. And never were!"

"I told her she had done a foolish, foolish thing!" exclaimed Mrs.
Wilmerton.

"Just so! And it _was_ foolish," said Attorney Mullen, "_If_ it was
done. And, if it was done, and Snooks Turner telephoned, and I thought
he meant the burglary, I would, naturally, assault him."

"You hurt him bad," said Philo Gubb.

"And I meant to!" said Attorney Mullen.

All turned toward the door, where Policeman Fogarty entered with
Snooksy and Nan.

"I've done ivrything I cud t' quiet th' matter up," said Fogarty to
Mullen, thus explaining his interest in the affair.

"I like jail," said Snooks cheerfully. "I'm going to stay in jail."

Aunt Martha Turner interrupted him. She came into the kitchen like a
gust of wind, scattering the others like leaves, and threw her arms
around her nephew Snooksy.

"Oh, my Snooksy! My Snooksy!" she moaned. "Don't you love your old
auntie any more? Won't you be a good boy for your poor old auntie?
Don't you love her at all any more?"

"Sure," said Snooks happily. "A fellow can love you in jail, can't
he?"

"But won't you come out?" she pleaded. "Everybody wants you to come
out, dear, dear boy. See--they all want you to come out. Every last
one of them. Please come out."

"Oh, I like it in jail," said Snooks. "It gives me time for
meditation. Well, good-bye, folks, I'll be going back."

His aunt grasped him firmly by the arm and wailed. So did Nan.

"But, Snooksy," begged Mrs. Turner, "don't you know they'll send me to
the penitentiary if you go back to that old jail?"

"Yes, but don't you care, auntie. They sa